A brief glimpse into the daily happenings of a 6-year-old, his new baby brother and his family.

Monday, December 31, 2007

Jinkies! You're crazy.

It turns out that another genetic trait Ben may have gotten from me is the crazy gene. While probably not severe enough for any formal diagnosis, I'm sure that we both are a little right of normal when it comes to certain obsessive behaviors. You know, like me wanting to sleep with a piece of cookware (see that post here). Ben's obsession has been going on for quite awhile. He is completely consumed by all things Scooby Doo.

He knows all their names, facts about the Mystery Machine, and random details about the mysteries solved in every episode he's watched. Their lingo has found its way into his daily vocabulary--- "Zoinks!" "Jinkies, Mommy." "Rut-roh."

For some reason, he is particularly attached to Velma. (Note: ANY comments about boys liking girls who are like their mothers will result in severe consequences.) Not pretty, stylish Daphne, but dumpy, smart Velma. Hmmm....

We've been living with the running conversation surrounding Scooby Doo:
B: Mom, do you know what I'm going to say to Velma, Mom?
H: What, Ben?
B: Well, one question. I'm going to tell her a question.
H: What question are you going to ASK her?
B: Well. I'm gonna say, "Velma, I love you."
(re-read this 10 or 15 times in a row. Occasionally, you can replace "Velma, I love you." with "Wanna go to Starbuck's with the gang?" That's what it's like to ride in the car with us these days.)

Last night, I realized the obsession may have gone over the line. You know, like those strung out heroin junkies on "Real Life" on MTV or the people confronted with an A&E camera crew on "Intervention" who have hit rock bottom and suddenly realize they need help? Here's how it went...

Before I go into the story, I should warn you. It's bathroom humor. Literally. It's a poop story.

While doing his evening business, Ben was telling me a story about "The Gang" and how they were going to ride snow mobiles. Just then, the child deposited two huge turds into the toilet. Now, this is always a proud moment in our house... he has to check them out, determine which is bigger, discuss if they float or sink (I'm not making this up).
B: Wow! That's some BIIIIIIIIIIIIIG poop.
H: Yep.
B: (sounding as excited as Christmas morning) Mommy, look, it's Daphne and Velma. Hi, Daphne! Hi, Velma! (suddenly concerned) Are you guys going away forever?
H: (flushes)
B: (looking in the toilet) Bye, girls. I will miss you. (sad face) Mommy, they're gone forever. Flushed away.

Maybe "Promises" has a rehab wing for obsessed fans. In a joint New Year's Resolution, maybe Ben and I can work on dialing down the crazy.

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